


Trust

by smallameangel



Series: Frans Week Short Stories [26]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frisk (Undertale), Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, References to Hamlet, Soulmates, TroupeTale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallameangel/pseuds/smallameangel
Summary: Day 4 forfransweek's2021 tumblr challenge!Mettaton is requiring Frisk to paint her nails an ugly mustard color for a play, and Frisk wants Sans to wear nail polish in solidarity...
Relationships: Frisk & Sans (Undertale), Frisk/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Frans Week Short Stories [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/650930
Kudos: 7





	Trust

* Do you trust me? she yelled angrily, tears in her eyes. * Do you really trust me?

Never before had he seen his Ophelia that upset. Sans took a step forward, his hands reaching out in a defenseless manner, as though to soothe the beast before him. 

* why are you even asking that!? ‘course i do!

* Then let me do what I want to you! Frisk replied as she gesticulated wildly. * I want us to match!

Oh. That’s what this was about. 

Sans heaved a huge sigh and slumped back into the couch, his boney hands resting on the cushions his friend had prepared. 

* frisk, i don’t even have nails to paint, and the mustard color that the director wants on you looks... well... let’s just say i won’t be able to **mustard** the will to live if you put that on me. 

“pfff!” She forced her giggle to stay in, a few stray breaths pushing between her tight lips. 

* I don’t like the mustard seed color either, but it’s period appropriate, she nodded, her frown finally evening out into her usual neutral smile. * For you, though, I found a better color. 

Now he was intrigued. A better color, that wasn’t a sickly yellow, but somehow matched it?

* aaaand what would that be? ketchup? he laughed jokingly. 

* How did you know? she grinned, pulling a red bottle of nail polish out of her pocket and shaking it back and forth.

Sans choked on his laugh as the bottle was thrust into his vision, an unmistakeable Heinz Ketchup label prominently displayed on the ketchup bottle shaped nail polish bottle. 

* no way... you’re pranking me. 

* And here I thought you trusted me, Frisk laughed, playfully pouncing on her soulmate. 

She grabbed a bony hand before it could get away, the happiness in her soul settling him and resigning him to his fate. 

* you’d better make me look more fabulous then the director then. 

* More fabulous than Mettaton? Got it. 

The glint of determination in her eyes was enough. His muse was at work.


End file.
